a thousand rainy days since we first met
by mmoonlit
Summary: POST SERIES FINALE. Quinn Fabray is a successful Hollywood actress playing the role that might change her entire career, but nothing really matters when there are eight years of regrets weighing on her shoulders. When work brings her to New York, though, she decides to make one long overdue call to Rachel Berry. Parallel story to "haven't you heard the rumors?".


**A/N:** Hey guys. This is my (unbetaed) contribution to _Faberry Week_ , under the _Second Chances_ prompt. This story happens **before the one described on** _ **haven't you heard the rumors?**_ , so if you haven't read that one yet, I'd recommend you to. It's not exactly necessary to understand this story, but it's advisable anyway, especially to understand the small prologue before the beginning of the narrative. And for the ones who have read it, yes, I will post the last chapter of that one soon.

I have plans for making a multi-chapter story out of this one, too, but I don't think this will happen right now. I'm only posting this chapter so I can contribute to the last Faberry Week. I really shouldn't be doing this, seeing as I have a lot of things to do for grad school, haha.

Also, I'll briefly address Finn's death here, so I'd like to make it clear right from the start: I respect Cory's death and the struggle he went through. My heart went out for him, for Lea, for the cast and for everyone who loved and knew him. But in this story I'll give Finn's death a cause which is different for Cory's, and it's not just for character building, although it might seem. It is something that I think would be fitting to the character, seeing as his background is very different from Cory's. That being said, I hope you all understand that this by no means was written to disrespect Cory or Finn.

Glee doesn't belong to me, neither do its characters. I'm just realizing some of my dreams here. The excerpt of the movie script is all mine. Oh, and the title comes from my favorite The Police song, _Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic_ (I even have a Faberry gifset with this music on my tumblr, mmoonlit)

* * *

 **a thousand rainy days since we first met**

* * *

BEATRICE  
Do you know what's your problem?

JULIA  
(sarcastically)  
What isn't my problem, Trice?

JULIA walks toward the lake, turning her back on BEATRICE.

BEATRICE  
You love being miserable.

JULIA turns to face her, bewildered.

BEATRICE (CONT'D)  
You do.

BEATRICE walks to JULIA, staring at her with a determined look. JULIA starts to cry as BEATRICE speaks.

BEATRICE

Whenever anything is going right in your  
life, whenever you make any move that  
brings you any kind of happiness, you  
cut it off. You don't feel like you should  
be happy, so you drown yourself in your  
work and your career and push away  
everything that makes you happy. Why  
are you so afraid of doing what you feel  
like instead of what you think you should?

BEATRICE tries to put her hands on JULIA's shoulders, but JULIA pushes her away.

JULIA  
(screaming)

Oh, that's rich coming from the artsy geek  
who got into fucking Law School! You had  
everything pretty much handed over to you  
on a silver platter. Daddy was going to pay  
for your studies in California, but you just  
threw it all away to get into Ivy League and  
become a bitter lawyer! And that's what  
you're gonna be!

Silence. BEATRICE takes a cigarette from her box, and slowly lights it up.

BEATRICE

Maybe miserableness and hypocrisy runs in  
this family. And now we're just two pathetic  
losers trying to live with our stupid choices.

* * *

The script is smeared with coffee rings, sweaty hand marks and scribbled side notes. Sighing, she throws the stack of papers on her bed and walks toward the window. This story hits home more than she had imagined it could do, and now, more than ever, Quinn Fabray, the relatively famous actress, cast for a movie that could change her career, can't for her life keep from applying those lines to her own life.

And that, as always, is a blame to be placed upon Rachel Berry. Because, for the first time in two years, four months and seventeen days, she is in the same city as the girl - the woman - she can't ever shake from her thoughts. The only person she could never forget, and the one she deliberately ran away from. The shot at happiness she had never tried to take.

New York is as loud and busy as she remembers, even more so with Christmas at the corner. From the ninth floor of the Park Lane Hotel, though, Quinn thinks there's something romantic about all those people walking around in their coats going through their days on the cold streets of Manhattan. She has gotten used to Los Angeles' lifestyle, where people are warm, but not genuinely so. It's unnerving, and sometimes she thinks she would rather have the honest cool and aloof air that hovers the new yorkers.

 _Well, not all of them_ , Quinn corrects herself, looking away from the big city and taking her phone from her pocket, wrapping it tightly around her fingers. She's been thinking about calling Rachel since she checked in (or, rather, for the last seven years). After so much time of near radio silence, the need to see Rachel again engulfs her completely, if only to feed her own masochistic lingering feelings for the oblivious woman. Still, it's hard to make the first move, not when she hasn't done so in a long time. There's a paralyzing fear keeping her still - the fear that Rachel hates her for the distance Quinn had carefully latched between them.

Over the course of their post-high school life, Quinn has knowingly and slowly erased herself from Rachel's life for hew own sake. Those little feelings Quinn had been collecting since high school had grown up too much, too fast, to the point where she had to detach herself from it in order to move on with her life. It had hurt badly enough to read Rachel's detailed emails about her predicament between Brody and Finn, so between a visit to help Rachel understand why exposing her body for a college project wasn't a good idea and watching Rachel moon over Finn Hudson all over again on Mr. Schue's (non) wedding, she had decided to quietly stop replying until Rachel gave up completely.

And then Finn died in a car accident, waking up everything Quinn had wanted so much to forget. She had almost died on the same way, but for a second, an inch, a heartbeat, she didn't. Yet he did, because one stupid drunk college student came onto him at 80 miles per hour when he was going home from class. It had gotten to her more than she thought it would, and she couldn't even bear to make it to Lima for the funeral (she went alone weeks later, when nobody could spot her, and had her own last word with Finn Hudson, apologizing for everything she made him go through, including the times she hated him for being the one Rachel loved). She isolated herself, her pain and her regrets, trying to cope with it in the darkness and solitude of her room in New Haven.

Quinn found out through Santana that Rachel was sad and angry at her for her absence, although she could understand her reasons. She thought about calling Rachel then, but she didn't know what to say. They met in Lima for the last Glee Club assignment, and while Rachel didn't talk to her, she made an effort to cheer her up along with the rest of the group after Biff's stupid behavior. It felt wrong, to have Puck singing a song that Rachel chose to sing to her, back when she found out about her pregnancy. It felt wrong because it should've been Rachel singing to her, but how many times could she wait for Rachel to look at Quinn the way Quinn have always (now she knows) looked at her? Besides, it wasn't fair to wait for a response from Rachel when she had been shutting her off so consistently, and when Rachel had her own demons to chase.

But the whole situation confused her feelings again, so she took up on Puck's offer to try again (or try at all, since they had never). He was willing to take the chance, and while he wasn't who she wanted, he wanted her for who she was. And it worked, if only for a while. She also made herself absent from Rachel's opening night in _Funny Girl_ , but made sure to send her - strictly friendly - flowers to convey her pride for her, because that was what she was trying to say when she told Rachel she had an amazing future ahead of her. She still has the thank you message from Rachel screen saved on her Dropbox, as pathetic as it sounds.

She went to Lima one more time for the Glee Club a year later because Rachel asked her to - and she could never say no to Rachel -, and seeing Rachel so unsure of herself broke Quinn's heart a little bit more. She wanted to say something, to push Rachel into some direction, but she couldn't do it without opening up to those feelings she had been valiantly trying to forget. Quinn asked Mercedes to do it instead, long after she flew back safe and sound to New Haven, with the promise her intentions would never become known. She broke up with Puck, too, because she still couldn't find it in herself to love him, or anyone (she consciously avoided thinking about that word whenever Rachel came to her mind).

By then, Quinn had decided that the best she could do was to dive into her studies to become an actress, since it apparently was the only thing she had been doing right. She missed Santana and Brittany's wedding so she could attend a special acting program on Yale, but made it back to Lima under - another - Rachel's request (Santana never forgave her for that one). But the moment she saw Rachel wrapped in Jesse St. Jerk's arms, she knew she couldn't come back anymore. So she raised her walls and soldiered on with her acting skills, and shortly - thankfully - after that, her career took flight.

It became easier, once Quinn moved to Los Angeles, to stay out of Rachel's life and start a new one without those unwanted feelings maiming it (much). She would know about her, mainly because she lived with Mercedes for a few months until she got a place of her own, but that was just about it. The notion of Rachel getting engaged to Jesse had stung her a little, but not enough to take her off her way. She had even attended their marriage with an almost genuine smile - and a nameless, faceless candy arm by her side, just in case.

Quinn has dated a few men - and had some adventures with a few women -, but they were as meaningless as her high school and college sweethearts. She figures it might be the Hollywood life getting to her - the sake of appearance that had mattered so much to her in the past coming back to haunt her. But she has gotten used to it as well, as she jumped from one movie to another and got more and more famous. She made herself not to care again, and it was simpler than she thought it would be, as long as she kept her distance from people she actually cared about. Her only exception was - is - Beth, of course, whom she visits and emails whenever she gets a chance.

That detachment was put to test when Quinn learned, last year - this time, from a Broadway fan blog that she was admittedly peeking at on a moment of weakness - that Rachel was taking her time off from the stage in order to have a baby for Kurt and Blaine. She was sick with worry about what this would mean to Rachel on the long run (something she doubted Rachel had put some real thought on), and yet again she didn't call. She had no right to have an opinion on Rachel's life anymore, and even when she had, Rachel had never listened to her. Besides, it wasn't like there was anything she could do, seeing as Rachel was already pregnant. So she let another opportunity to reconnect pass by.

But now...Now Quinn's in New York for the first time in forever. And she knows, she really does, that she hasn't really moved on. That it would only take a look, a smile, a "hello" for her to get right back to the start, to being hopelessly enchanted with Rachel Berry. But she also knows that she's just like Beatrice and Julia, always looking at the greener grass, but too afraid of reaching for it. It's probably too late for anything, anyway - Rachel is married to Jesse, sharing a life with him, maybe even planning to have a child of her own, and if she had never felt anything for Quinn, there's no way in hell Quinn will get a chance right now.

However, six years have proved that running away from Rachel wasn't the solution to help her move on. It only made everything worse, filling her life with what ifs, swamping her every attempt at a relationship with somebody else. She needs the closure, whether closure means Rachel deciding that the bridges are burned beyond repair, or Quinn finding a new way to fit Rachel in her life. She doesn't want to be a homewrecker (she doesn't even think that is possible, since Rachel is straight, as far as she knows), but she needs to know what she meant to Rachel, and if there is a way to salvage anything. Maybe if they try to actually be friends, and not some sort of "kind of" friends with heavy conversations and dubious gestures, she will be able to move on.

This won't just magically happen and she knows it, but it's been years since she had felt like this; the last time had been when she spent nearly five hundred dollars of her savings on train tickets she only used once (and Rachel never did). She could blame the script giving her ideas, that her experience as Beatrice has given her the fictional taste of a real life of locking out dreams and feelings. It is exactly what she had always done - running away from happiness in order to keep her heart safe, or to please somebody else, but never herself. Always looking at what could have been and unable to take real chances. But, really, it's always just _Rachel_ and Quinn's complete lack of control in regards of her.

And that's why, after nearly an hour of pondering, Quinn finds herself pressing call on Rachel's number. She doesn't even know if that's still her number, but it doesn't keep her heart from skipping when it starts calling.

After what seems like an eternity, the confused, but unmistakable voice of Rachel Berry answers with a quiet, " _Hello?_ "

It's like opening all the levers at once; like the last eight years of distance and nearly no contact had never happened, and Quinn is back in a hallway, in a choir room, in a bathroom, and all she can hear is Rachel Berry.

"Rachel?" she tries meekly, and closes her eyes in frustration for how stupid she sounds.

There's a sudden rustle on the other side of the line, as if Rachel is quickly getting up from a lying position. " _Oh, my God! Quinn!_ " Rachel all but screams, joy dripping from her voice.

She still forgives too easily - or maybe Quinn is punishing herself too much. Either way, Quinn is relieved to be the recipient of such a happy tone.

"For a second I thought you didn't have my number anymore," she manages to croak out with a trembled voice.

Rachel giggles timidly for a bit. " _I do, I just,_ " she pauses, like she's measuring her next words. " _I didn't believe you were actually calling me. I thought it was a mistake._ "

The confession shouldn't surprise Quinn, but she can't help but to groan internally and retreat to self-penance. That is all Rachel thinks she has been reduced to in Quinn's life: a pocket call.

"It's not. I-" _could never call you on mistake. My only mistake was to never call._ "How are you?"

There is a pause, and Quinn can't grasp the meaning of it.

" _I'm great!_ " Rachel replies, but there's little true enthusiasm in it. " _And you?_ "

"I'm fine," Quinn says, biting her lip. "I- I'm in New York, actually."

Rachel's bewildered response is immediate. " _What? What are you doing here?_ "

She probably didn't mean to sound harsh, but Quinn still replies with a playful, "Oh, whoa, sorry then."

There's a sigh before Rachel's quiet voice says, " _No, Quinn, you know I'm happy that you're here._ "

And damned be Quinn's thundering heart.

"Are you?"

" _Of course!_ " Rachel confirms, as if Quinn hadn't disappeared from her life years ago. " _But I thought you'd be in LA. I mean, you're doing a movie, aren't you? With Natalie Portman?_ " she asks, and there's the usual awe in her voice that never fails to make Quinn feel giddy. Like Rachel's approval is more important than anyone else's (it kind of is).

"Yeah," Quinn says in a bashful tone, absentmindedly tracing the window glass with her fingers. "Actually, we're here for some location filming, since the setting is New York. I'll be here for a few days."

Quinn can almost see the smile on Rachel's face as she gushes, " _Oh, that's wonderful! We have to hang out some time!_ "

"Uh-" Quinn hesitates, nearly slamming her face against the window. Of course Rachel would be busy. "I was wondering if you would be free now, but if you're not-"

" _No, I am!_ " Rachel interrupts energetically, and Quinn is comically shaking her fist in victory before she can realize what she's doing. " _I just thought that you'd-_ "

Feeling much more confident, Quinn chuckles and says, "Ok, let's start over. Rachel, what do you say we go grab a coffee or something?"

Rachel giggles like she's seventeen. " _I'd be glad to. I'll just have a quick shower and let Jesse know._ "

That, however, puts a damper on Quinn's high spirits. For a blissful moment, she had forgotten that Rachel is married and has a life with another person. A life about which she knows very little.

"Oh. Will he be coming, too?" she asks, trying not to sound as disappointed as she feels.

" _No,_ " Rachel informs evenly. " _He's at the theater. He's been brainstorming on this new project, it's been taking all his time._ "

Quinn notices a restraint in Rachel's voice, but doesn't ask. Maybe later, if Rachel give her an opening. Now, she's just selfishly thankful that Jesse is probably still an egocentric ass. "Right. Well, I'll leave you to your shower. Where can we meet up?"

" _Wherever you want. The show is dark today, so I'm free._ "

Yeah, Quinn kind of totally knew that. She may have looked it up on when she saw the billboard on Times Square. Originally, she was disappointed because her plan had been to discreetly watch Rachel's performance and leave without being noticed (she's still not famous enough to be easily spotted, something that is bound to change thanks to this role, as her agent loves to point out), but now it might be her chance to have a private conversation that hasn't happened in eight years.

"Uh, I really don't know my way around here," she confesses awkwardly. "We could go to that one where you took me and Santana once. You really liked it there."

It's a risky move, reminding Rachel of the only time she had paid the girl a visit, but Rachel is being so friendly that it might be worth the shot.

And it pays off, because, after a pause, Rachel whispers fondly, " _the Think Coffee. You remember._ "

"All two minutes of praise about their hummus wrap, yes," Quinn quips with a grin, feeling inexplicably warm, as she always does whenever Rachel points out a good trait in her.

Rachel laughs, and it's Quinn's absolute favorite sound just for her ears. " _I don't know how Santana made it through it all without punching me._ "

Quinn knows, and it's because Santana was too busy finding Quinn's "disgusting puppy-love-struck face" hilarious to bother telling Rachel to shut up.

"She was eating, so she was happy," Quinn replies instead. "So, I see you in, say, an hour?" she asks hopefully, feeling that this might be a good idea after all.

" _It's a date._ "

Quinn really wishes it would be.

* * *

Google gave her the address for the coffee shop in less than two seconds, and then Quinn went off to pamper herself to see Rachel. It isn't like she needs much help - she knows her effect on people, even more now that her face is displayed all over the world -, and she certainly doesn't need to prove to Rachel how well she is doing, but she had always felt the need to impress her. At first, she thought it was because Rachel represented a threat to her position, always finding her at her worst moments, so she would have to intimidate her by her flawless stance. Then she realized that, as unsettling as their weird relationship was, those moments had always changed her for the best, deconstructing and rebuilding her in new unimaginable ways. And even though that isn't why Rachel is so important to Quinn (she had dropped the gratitude excuse a few years ago), she wants to show her that all those tears resulted in something good, even if it isn't exactly everything she had ever wanted.

As she left, Quinn came across Natalie (it is still very weird to be on first name basis with that woman, however close they have become during the filming) on the hallway, and she is fairly sure she was made fun of when she informed her where she was going, if her "must be a very important friend for you to go meet only three hours after we arrived" was anything to go by. After a quick reminder to protect herself from getting a cold at all costs (really, Natalie knows nothing about the crazy suicides on _snow_ Sue Sylvester had put the Cheerios through in high school), Quinn dodged a few paparazzi that weren't actually looking for her and got on a cab to Mercer Street.

Now she's in front of the - blissfully empty - coffee shop, looking through the front glass at the back of Rachel Berry's head (even though it's hidden under a thick red beanie, Quinn is pretty sure she still knows her tiny figure), who's sitting at the very back of the room. Quinn feels her heart doing somersaults inside of her chest and almost rolls her eyes on behalf of what Santana would do if she saw her right now. She figures it's too late to back down now, and yet she doesn't seem able to move.

She doesn't have a choice, anyway, because a few seconds later Rachel looks back, her eyes scanning the rapidly darkening streets until she sees Quinn and her lips split in a delighted smile. Quinn feels her cheeks burn as she presses her black square-framed glasses (that she wears whenever she doesn't want to be bothered) against her face and walks into the shop, leaving her coat on the hanger. Her body trembles, and it has nothing to do with the 38 degrees outside.

Apart from her obviously excited body language, this older and wiser Rachel Berry knows better than to scream her name from across the room, so she turns on her back again and waits for Quinn to stand beside her.

"I almost didn't recognize you with those glasses," Rachel points out with a grin as she gets up and hugs Quinn with all her will. Unannounced, as all the hugs she receives from Rachel are. Quinn's breath hitches and she suppresses a groan at how _good_ Rachel still feels against her body.

"Well, you know, I think Superman had a point," she mutters cheekily, thanking God that her voice doesn't waver.

Rachel giggles, and it's even better than listening it through the phone.

"How are you? It's been too long," she asks with a wistful look as they break the contact. Her eyes are locked on Quinn's, and Quinn is already hypnotized. She briefly wonders if she had been only half-living, waiting for the day she would have those brown irises aimed on her again.

"I'm fine," Quinn replies as she sits down in front of Rachel, still slightly dazed at how alien this all feels, to have Rachel so close _and alone_ after so much time. "Trying not to get a cold so I can film tomorrow."

"Oh, you're filming tomorrow already?" Rachel asks, wonderstruck, and Quinn chuckles, because it's been long since she had surprised anyone with her career. LA people are hardly impressed. "How is it going?"

"We're almost wrapping it up and all," Quinn says in a quiet tone. She really isn't one to brag. "It's coming along great."

"I can't even wrap my head around you working with Natalie Portman! Kurt is so jealous!" Rachel enthuses with a smile that's only slightly sad. Quinn knows there are thoughts about time spent and bad decisions running through her head, because Rachel could have everything she had dreamed of by now if she hadn't given up on the first obstacle.

So could Quinn, but she has to give it to (and get inspiration from) Rachel for trying again.

"I can't either," she replies, biting her lower lip shyly. She sometimes thinks it's all a dream, and her agent didn't call her a year ago on a Sunday morning telling Quinn she had secured her an audition for a role she just had to take. "It's amazing. Natalie's a genius, and she's been teaching me a lot. I feel like an idiot around her."

"Don't say that, Quinn!" Rachel frowns, pursing her lips in disapproval. "You're playing her sister. You're obviously talented, or you wouldn't get the role."

Quinn feels her face heating at the compliments Rachel has always given her so easily, and mutters a timid, "Thank you."

Rachel beams, but doesn't say anything as the attendant arrives to take their orders. Quinn smirks when Rachel orders her beloved hummus wrap, which warrants her a stern look which turns to a pleased smile as Quinn orders one for herself.

"I'm taking your word for it," Quinn alerts her, even though it wouldn't matter (much) if the food was awful; she had just wanted to make Rachel smile.

"You won't regret it."

"What about you? How's the show?" Quinn inquires, deciding that it's better to change the subject than to get lost in that fuzzy feeling that Rachel gives her.

Rachel's smile falls short at that, and her eyes divert to the table, and she traces a distracted finger along the woodwork. "It's great. I love the it, I love my role."

Quinn frowns, because if the weird expression on her face wouldn't give her away, Rachel's economy on words certainly would. Rachel Berry never talks about anything without using a minimum of twenty words, least of all about something she loves.

"You don't seem very content," Quinn observes, gazing at Rachel with attention.

It was apparently the exact wrong thing to say, seeing as Rachel's head snaps up and her forehead creases in annoyance.

"But I am," she blurts, placing her hair behind her ear and biting her lip in a clear display of discomfort. "It's amazing, really. I've won a Tony, and everybody loves me. It's everything I've ever wanted."

The more Rachel says, the less convinced Quinn is, but she chooses to placate the woman for the time being. "Congratulations, Rachel. I've always known you could get anything you set your mind into. You deserve to be recognized for it," she says with a polite smile, hoping the honesty in her voice isn't _too_ honest.

It's enough, anyway, to keep Rachel's temper at bay, because her guard melts immediately and her cheeks tint in a way that charms Quinn completely. "Thank you, Quinn. It really means a lot coming from you."

And there it is, the look of adoration that captured Quinn's heart unconditionally so many years ago. The look that tells Quinn that there might be something more hovering behind those beautiful brown eyes, and gives her hope that, maybe, she isn't alone on this drifting boat.

"I'm only telling the truth," she replies softly, in spite of her stomping heart.

"I know," Rachel says, but corrects herself at Quinn's arched eyebrow. "I didn't mean it like that! It's just- you've always believed in me."

"I still do," Quinn provides effortlessly. Even - especially - when her own future was blurred, Quinn knew Rachel was meant for greatness.

"And I've always believed you could get as far as you wanted to," Rachel adds with a knowing grin, and Quinn's heart jumps at the mention of the moment she knew Rachel Berry meant something else in her life. "I will see you winning an Oscar someday, you know."

Quinn laughs at the preposterousness of the statement, shaking her head slightly. "Oh, I wish. I'm just doing my job. I don't expect to even be nominated for anything, Rach."

Rachel's grin widens slightly, and Quinn has the feeling the nickname has something to do with it. "I think you will, and I think you'll win. I've seen your movies. I never knew you had so many expressions," she says with an amused expression, giggling when Quinn rolls her eyes (even as her body heats at the knowledge that Rachel has kept track of her career).

"Very funny," she mutters in mock annoyance.

"No, really," Rachel insists, and her face softens. "You're very talented, Quinn."

Quinn bites her lower lip, looking away from Rachel's earnest eyes. She had always wondered if Rachel praised everybody else as she does with her. Their exchanges always leave her confused, because even though they could pass off as friendly talks, there's always an edge of _more_. She doesn't know how much of that (or if everything) is wishful thinking, but she would really like for Rachel to be clearer on her intentions.

But that's neither here nor there, because Quinn is trying for a new beginning, and they have a lot of path to cover before they can start on fresh ground, so she asks, "How is everything else?"

Once again, Rachel's demeanor dulls at the question, and she slips into a mask of nonchalance. "Oh, it's good. You know, working six days a week, dodging the odd creepy fan every other night. It's interesting."

Something is definitely off, and Quinn feels the worry creeping up on her when she imagines what might be causing this lingering apathy. Risking being shut off again, she says, "I feel like there's a but somewhere," _like the fact that she doesn't mention anything but her career_.

Rachel clicks her tongue, and her once soft eyes harden into a mild irritated expression. "I guess I still can't hide from you, can I?"

Quinn doesn't know if that is a good thing, but at least Rachel is admitting to something. "You just don't seem very well," she explains gently, trying to convey her worry through her words.

There is a sigh when Rachel sits back on her chair and shrugs, saying, "I don't know. I guess I'm feeling jaded."

And although that is a perfectly understandable feeling, it doesn't make much sense to Quinn, because, "You just got back to the show. It's been, what, four months?"

Rachel raises her eyebrows in surprise at that, but she doesn't look exactly pleased when she asks, "Are you keeping tabs on me?"

 _Busted, you idiot_ , Quinn thinks, gripping the edges of the table. "Well, when I have time. I mean, you do make the news, you know," she mumbles nervously.

"You could have called, too," Rachel scoffs bitterly, and Quinn gets the first taste of what her distance had really meant to Rachel.

It isn't like she hadn't seen it coming, because once the news and pleasantries were exchanged, they were bound to discuss Quinn's obvious absence. She just wasn't expecting Rachel to turn the table to easily and with so much resentment in her eyes after she had been so sweet and considerate of her. On the other hand, she thinks it's good, because she would hate for Rachel to swallow her come back without any questioning. If they are going to clean the slates, they'll have to go through the swamp their odd relationship has left in its wake.

"I'm sorry, Rachel," Quinn says, ruminating the possibility of explaining everything to Rachel. Not right now, of course, but if they ever reach a stable stage in their friendship. For now, she'll stick to lame excuses like, "I- I had a lot going on."

"Mercedes was on tour and found time to drop by," Rachel counters with a wry smile.

"I'm sorry," Quinn repeats, looking at her white fingertips clenched against the rosewood tabletop.

"Look, I understand. You have priorities. It's okay," Rachel says, but her defeated expression shouts anything but okay, and it's like an iron hand closing on Quinn's chest.

"Rachel, I'm sorry," she says one more time, trying to come up with a way to explain that is neither a lie nor the entire truth. "We weren't exactly talking, and I've been away from your life for so long that I didn't know how to approach you anymore."

It's a good enough explanation, but it offers Rachel the perfect follow-up question, laced with latent anger, "And why did you call me after all this time?"

Quinn takes a deep breath, gathering her bearings. She feels like they are discussing more than the aborted potential friendship they had been nurturing by the end of their senior year. It is almost as if- as if Rachel had expected something else. And the notion that she might have lost a real chance to be with Rachel hurts more than anything.

She then decides to be more honest and see where they would go from here, confessing, "Because I wanted to see you. I thought that me being in New York for work would be a good excuse to seek you out."

Rachel pauses, processing the words as her body relaxes before quickly tensing again. Her next words are barely a whisper, and Quinn strain her ears to listen to them. "So you just wanted to see me? Have a cup of coffee and go away?"

"No," Quinn answers right away, shaking her head vehemently. "I wanted to see you to find out whether we could be friends again."

Quinn is aware that, right now, friendship is not all she wants. She wants Rachel, and wants to be the one to set her free from that sadness that seems to be consuming and feeding off of her. But if friendship is all that Rachel can offer her, she would take it.

Rachel crosses her arms, as if protecting herself from Quinn. It is a valid move, Quinn reasons as Rachel asks in a disbelieving tone, "Why would you want my friendship now?"

Quinn figures she might have seen that coming, too. She gets where Rachel is coming from; Quinn is a reasonably successful Hollywood actress who has been out of Rachel's life for so many years only to come back now, out of the blue, with feeble excuses to cover her up. She understands that Rachel doesn't trust her; she had trusted Quinn in the past, but was left out in the cold. Even Quinn wouldn't forgive herself, but she's hoping wholeheartedly that Rachel eventually will.

"I've always wanted your friendship, Rachel," she assures Rachel, the vulnerableness in her voice blatantly at show now. The hardness in Rachel's eyes dimmers, but only slightly, so Quinn carries on. "But I've made a lot of wrong turns and shut out the wrong people. I'm finally realizing what's important, and I've come to the conclusion that one of the things that I regret most is the fact that we never had a chance at being real friends."

It isn't - obviously, it isn't - all there is to it, but for the first time since she started to explain herself, Quinn has the feeling that Rachel knows, because her eyes momentaneously flicker against the yellow ceiling lights. That both terrifies and relieves Quinn, but the words are already out there, and she now has to face whatever Rachel throws at her.

"And I want it now, if it isn't too late," Quinn concludes in a lower tone, dropping her head and looking down at her hands, now splayed on the table.

And just like that, Rachel drops her walls, finally showing just how much in pain she is, and it tears Quinn's heart apart. She knows Rachel's bitter stance isn't really about her absence (although it certainly is a contributing factor), and that something else has been biting her insides for longer than the last fifteen minutes. She thinks she knows what it is, too, but she can't ask anything if Rachel isn't willing to give her a chance, so she waits patiently for her sentence.

"It's not," Rachel says, uncrossing her arms, and Quinn can't help the smile that spreads on her lips despite the heavy moment. "I-I'm sorry, Quinn. I'm being a bitch."

"No, you're not," Quinn denies in a sad chuckle. "I totally deserve it."

Rachel protests with a shake of her head, punishing her lower lip relentlessly. "You don't. I'm stressed and lashing out."

It is the breach Quinn has been expecting, so she quickly runs to it. "Rach," she starts, risking a stretch of her right arm to place her hand closer to where Rachel's left one rests on the table. "What's going on?"

Rachel looks down at where their hands lie side by side, and Quinn thinks she sees Rachel's pinky twitch closer to her thumb, but before she can do anything about it, Rachel closes her fist.

"It's nothing."

Quinn needs to know, and perhaps this is going to break the conversation definitely, but she asks anyway, so to get a read on Rachel's reaction, "Is this about- about the baby?"

The silence that follows her words is enough an answer, and Quinn slouches against her chair, trying to capture Rachel's running eyes.

"Tell me you're seeing a therapist," she pleads quietly, sadness all over her voice.

The features on Rachel's face darken, and she looks older than ever as she vows rather harshly, "I'm okay, Quinn. But thank you for your concern."

Quinn sighs tiredly, running a hand through her hair. "Rachel, I just want to know if you're seeing a therapist."

"I am," Rachel bites out, almost against her will.

"That's good," Quinn says, relaxing slightly. "I won't ask anything. If you don't want to tell me, I'll understand."

Rachel doesn't have to answer, anyway, because their orders finally arrive. They eat and drink in silence for a while, and Quinn wonders if she has spoiled the small chance she had conquered with such difficulty.

After a few minutes, though, Rachel drops her cutlery on the plate, her hummus wrap only half eaten. Quinn looks up at her warily, half expecting her to dart out, but Rachel meets her eyes and she looks just utterly _lost_.

"It's just- Jesse is never home anymore. He's working on this revival for when _Jane Austen Sings_ ends and he always comes back late," she confesses, and her eyes shimmer with held back tears. "Kurt and Blaine are busy being parents, and I'm trying not to interfere, because I know it's their moment. I barely see anyone but my coworkers, and they don't exactly love me. I guess I'm feeling alone, you know? Like I don't have anyone to talk without having to watch what I say so they don't stab me on the back."

Rachel says it all in a rushed voice, as though the very act of voicing it hurts. Quinn imagines it really does, because the pain is all over her face. She stretches her arm again, but this time her hand cradles Rachel's trembling fingers. The contact is like a shockwave running through her body, and for a moment she thinks Rachel feels it, too.

"I understand," she whispers, but Rachel only frowns, although she doesn't push her hand away.

"How can _you_ understand, Quinn?" she asks sourly. "You're a Hollywood actress. People love to be around you."

Quinn almost laughs, because Rachel can't possibly believe that's true.

"Not people that actually care about me," Quinn corrects, tilting her head in a shrug.

There is a crinkle on Rachel's forehead as she her eyes pierce Quinn's, as if she is really looking at Quinn for the first time on that evening. "Do you think you got everything that you wanted, Quinn?"

"No," Quinn answers, and her eyes lingers one moment too long on Rachel's before she adds, "I mean, career wise, I'm on cloud nine. I'm working with people I used to worship. It's where I wanted to be. But everything else is-"

"Not exactly how you've expected to be," Rachel completes, a resigned smile on her lips.

Quinn nods with a matching smile of her own. "I guess that's the price of fame," _and cowardice_.

"Yeah," Rachel agrees, sipping her chai latte and looking pacified.

"I envy you a little," Quinn says, trying for a lighter subject. "At least you get to live in a city you love. LA is...well, overwhelming."

Rachel grins, raising her eyebrows as she ponders, "I don't have good memories of LA, so my opinion really doesn't count."

"I understand why there are people who love it there. It's just not my speed, I guess."

"Why don't you move out?" Rachel suggests in an even tone, even as her eyes brighten up slightly.

"Because I work there," Quinn replies slowly, trying to gauge if Rachel is implying exactly what Quinn thinks she is.

"Not all the time. I mean, you're not doing a TV show that requires you to be there constantly," Rachel argues. "Unless you're planning to."

Quinn licks her lower lip, feeling excited at the possibility of Rachel wanting her closer. She has, however, to thread carefully down this road. There are still too many unexplained gaps in their communication, and too many lost moments to patch up.

"I don't have any plans right now. The movie will be finished by next month and then I'll see what's in the cards for me. It all depends on how well this movie will do."

Rachel acquiesces, and her lips quirk up in a full smile. "For what it's worth, I think you're going to be amazing in it."

"Thank you," Quinn mutters, happiness seeping through her pores even with so many broken things between them.

"I'm sorry for being so aggressive earlier," Rachel apologizes, looking hesitant all of sudden. "It's just- it's confusing, to have you back."

Quinn feels her breath hitch at the confession, and her heart starts beating madly against her ribcage. "Confusing?" she repeats, a little breathlessly.

Rachel puckers her lips, as though she is chastising herself for her wording. With a deep breath, she explains, "When you bought those train tickets...You were the closest person to me, apart from Kurt and Finn. I wanted so much to have you around, but then- then we grew apart," her words are troubled, like the ones spoken about wounds that haven't completely closed. "And I can't blame it all on you, because I never insisted, too. I just thought- you had found better friends in Yale."

Shame washes over Quinn once more, and now she is even more sure that she _has_ lost more than just a friendship. Rachel's eyes are speaking far more than her words, and Quinn feels extremely miserable.

"I've been an idiot, Rachel," she says, her voice strained in anguish, before she shakes her head with resolve. She may have lost the chance to have Rachel as her lover, but she sure as hell won't lose her as a friend again. "I- can we just start over? I don't want you to think that I'm doing this out of guilt. I just want us to have another chance."

Rachel breathes out slowly, looking lighter than before. That is a victory in itself in Quinn's books, especially when she timidly says, "I'd like that."

Quinn beams, only now realizing that she had been holding Rachel's hand all along, and neither of them seems to mind. With one last squeeze, she lets it go, saying, "Good. That's great."

They resume their eating, all traces of heavy clouds gone for the time being. There is still a long way to go, but they have won the first battle against their past.

For the remainder of the evening, they make small talk about their current jobs. Rachel still doesn't talk about Jesse and Quinn happily doesn't press the matter, but they exchange little anecdotes about their coworkers, and Quinn talks a little more about working with Natalie Portman. Quinn promises to watch _Jane Austen Sings_ as soon as she gets a chance, and Rachel promises to pay the movie set a visit on the next weekend ("Since you're twisting my arm," she jokes).

But Quinn has to go back to the hotel to run over her lines once more before going to sleep, and Rachel needs to rest for her double journey on the next day, and quicker than they would have liked, they have to leave the coffee shop. Rachel lives close by, so Quinn jumps at the opportunity of walking her home and prolonging their time together, despite Rachel's protests for not wanting Quinn to get a cold.

As they stop in front of Rachel's townhouse on Mott Street and turn to face each other, there is a shift, and Quinn thinks Rachel has realized it, because she looks reluctant for a split second. But then Quinn is being wrapped in an even tighter hug than before, and there, in the middle of a cold, dark New York street, she feels home.

"I think it'll be good for us," Rachel mutters as they pull apart, biting her lip for a while before she completes, "To have each other."

Rachel's words tug at Quinn's heart almost painfully, and her mind flies to the script sitting on her hotel bed. She can't stay bitter at her lost opportunities forever, not without seeing for herself how far they could take her. It might be too late, but Rachel is offering her a(nother) chance, and Quinn would be crazy to ignore the possibilities that are being thrown at her. She won't be losing any more seconds.

With a smile trailing at the end of her lips and a renewed hope settling in her chest, Quinn replies with a soft, "Yeah. I think you're right."


End file.
